


Dancing Juice

by colazitron



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-16
Updated: 2011-04-16
Packaged: 2017-11-27 08:13:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry, Louis and company are having a fun evening on their skiing trip in France.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing Juice

**Author's Note:**

> I totally blame [the video Louis posted](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vC019ZwmcHQ) and his and Harry's tweets.

**Dancing Juice**

It had started with Stan showing them his little dance routine and after they had recorded that (twice, because Louis hadn't been able to keep the camera steady and Harry was only marginally better at not cracking up, his giggles audible, but at least his hand wasn't shaking) and posted it on twitter, everything had gone downhill from there. Harry may have insisted on hot chocolate when the others had started on the beer and a quick glint in his eyes had made Louis instantly suspect that chocolate couldn't be everything Harry was going to use. So he let his two friends boo and hiss at him and call him a wet blanket, following Harry who sashayed out the living room like he was above all their company (but didn't mean it).

Harry shot Louis a wicked smile over the shoulder as he flicked the light switch in the little kitchenette and Louis spent an errant and random thought to Harry's mum, who he had promised to look after her baby and then jumped on the counter, watching as Harry pulled out a little pot and put it on the gas-lit stove.

"So, what's your plan, then?" Louis had asked, picking at the fabric of his sweat pants.

"Hot chocolate, what else?" Harry smiled angelically, like Louis was crazy for thinking there was anything more to it. Louis snorted in amusement, but settled for watching Harry bustle about the kitchen, melting actual chocolate in the pot and stirring in cream and milk and cinnamon and - ah - rum. Quite a bit of rum. Louis debated protesting but 1) it was too late anyway and 2) it also tasted quite delicious. So he settled for just whipping the cream Harry shoved at him in a bowl, grabbing the whisk he was handed. Harry topped the two mugs of hot chocolate off with the cream, sprinkled cocoa powder on top and even filled the empty pot with water, so the chocolate wouldn't be too hard to scrub off tomorrow.

"Are you, like, master chef?" Stan asked, raising a surprised eye brow when Harry set back down, sipping at his hot chocolate daintily, a smug smile playing around his lips. Louis sat down next to Harry, leaning his back against the sofa's armrest, shoving his toes under Harry's thigh to keep them warm.

"Nah, he's just domestic," Louis grinned, thinking back to when that had made him laugh and now it was just an integral part of what made Harry Harry. Perfectly normal.

“Perfect little wifey,” Ben joked, not maliciously, but earned himself a kick of Harry’s leg (the one that was not warming Louis’ toes) anyway. From then on it all went downhill. There really wasn’t much to do in the middle of the French Alps and with the help of iPads and twitter Harry and Louis kept themselves and their two friends amused for another hour before they were all more or less only lying on various flat surfaces, giggling. There may have been more alcohol involved, but if asked, Louis would blame it on the day in the sun spent racing down snowy slopes, the sudden change in pace from being on tour and Harry’s intoxicating giggles next to him. Really, how was Louis supposed to keep a straight face when Harry wouldn’t stop shaking with laughter at anything pointed out to him?

(“Oh, hey, we have two cows in the corner.”

“What?”

“Two cows.” Stan had pointed to the two little statuettes and Harry had followed the line of his arms and promptly burst into giggles, even posting a photo of them to twitter, and, well, they really weren’t that funny…)

Harry was the first to crack, calming down and going from giggling to yawning, which Louis didn’t find all that surprising. If Harry hadn’t worn himself out skiing, he must have worn himself out laughing right now. Ben and Stan ‘aw’ed at him mock-patronizingly, while Louis ran a hand through his curls, feeling his own body go lax with exhaustion. He leaned forward, putting his chin on Harry’s shoulder and mumbled, “Bed?” earning himself a sleepy nod. Harry got up from the couch, grabbed their two mugs and kicked Stan in the shoulder lightly, when he made a joke about newlyweds and honeymoons and bringing your friends along on those.

“You want to share the double instead?” Louis just grinned, knowing that Ben and Stan were glad that he and Harry had offered to share the room with the king-size bed, leaving the other two boys with the two singles. Louis honestly couldn’t exactly understand why. A bed was so much warmer with another person in it and there was really enough room for all four of them in it, if they would have to fit. And, well, he really didn’t mind sharing a bed with Harry. There was that.

“No thanks,” Stan assured him and smiled up at him from the floor.

“That’s what I thought,” Louis smiled back and threw a “good night, losers” over his shoulder as he walked down the hall. The light in the kitchen was still on and Louis reached into the room to turn it off without looking, jumping a bit at the amused snort that caused. He turned the light back on and his head to look into the room and saw Harry lean against the counter, sucking on his finger, the discarded bowl in which Louis had whipped the cream before in his other hand.

“Didn’t see me there,” Harry more stated than asked and Louis smiled apologetically, shrugging a shoulder.

“Oops.”

“Want some?” Harry just asked, sticking out the bowl. Louis crossed the room in a couple of steps, running a finger along the inside of the bowl, scooping up a bit of the frothy goodness. Before he could put the cream in his mouth though, Harry leaned forwards – not even fast enough for Louis to not be able to stop him – and closed his own lips around Louis’ fingers. He looked up at Louis through his lashes and his curls, his smiles like the figurative cat that got the cream.

“Greedy,” Louis complained, but then Harry offered him his own finger, topped off with whipped cream and, okay, that worked too. Harry pulled his lips off Louis’ finger again and looked down at the bowl and then up at Louis expectantly, running his tongue over his lips. Louis never could figure out when he did that on purpose or not.

Harry’s lips were right there and Louis was happy and relaxed and slightly tipsy and so he scooped up a bit of cream, smearing it over Harry’s lips and leaned forward, Harry’s finger slipping from his own mouth as he pressed their mouths together instead. Louis gave a soft sigh when Harry cradled his face in his hand, the tip of his finger still damp and opened his mouth to lap at the cream. Harry’s lips twitched into a grin before he mirrored the action, their tongues seemingly undecided about whether to chase each other or the cream. Louis grabbed Harry’s hip in one hand and dipped his other into the bowl, scooping up more cream and pushing his fingers in between their mouths when they separated a little, smearing it over Harry’s lips again. Louis’ mouth felt wet on the out and inside and he was pretty sure there was cream on his chin. Harry’s face looked a little ridiculous, but his eyes twinkled happily and Harry loved things messy, so Louis pressed in again, sucking at the cream and Harry’s lips and whatever other piece of skin he happened to land on. Harry whimpered a little and set the bowl down, in favour of slinging his arm around Louis and pulling him in closer.

“Thought you were tired?” Louis whispered against Harry’s mouth, enjoying the tingling feeling in his lips.

“I am,” Harry smiled back and everything in his posture showed that he was telling the truth.

“We better get into bed then,” Louis smiled, pecking Harry on the lips once more before stepping back and reaching for his hand. Harry’s smile tried valiantly to be dirty, but ultimately radiated affection as he traipsed along behind the older boy, his thumb rubbing little circle into Louis’ hand. Harry stumbled over to the bed, taking out his iPhone and typing out what Louis assumed to be a final good night to their twitter friends before setting the phone down on the night stand. Louis turned to the table to turn off his MacBook and frowned a little at the empty table top before remembering he’d left it in the living room. With a sigh, he turned around and marched back into the living room, where Stan and Ben were sat on the floor, leaning against the couch, talking. They briefly smiled at him as he grabbed his computer, but otherwise carried on their quiet conversation.

Walking back into their room, Louis typed a quick goodnight to his followers as well, before sending Harry a personal goodnight as well. Their fans loved that stuff and even though Harry always rolled his eyes, he also had that little smile on his face that showed Louis exactly how much Harry liked it. Shutting down the computer, he stretched and went still when he heard Harry’s low voice carried over the hallway from the bathroom. No matter how tired Harry was, he could always be heard humming to himself. Even if he did leave out half the lines sometimes. Right at the moment, he was softly singing what seemed to be Kelly Clarkson (“’Cause we belong together now, yeah“) if Louis wasn’t entirely mistaken. He wasn’t, it turned out, as Harry trotted back into their room and slung his arms around Louis’ neck, still singing.

“Forever united here somehow, yeah,” he smiled and leaned forward to give Louis a peck on the lips before drawing back and crawling under the covers, still softly singing to himself. Louis couldn’t help the smile that threatened to split his face and bit down on his lip while he quickly walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. Harry switched over to Bruno Mars’ “Marry You” at some point and Louis squashed down the sudden overwhelming need to cling to Harry and not let him go for at least the next week, drying his face off with a towel, before wandering back over into their bedroom.

“Hush now, baby cakes, sleepy time,” Louis whispered, leaning over Harry to press a kiss to his forehead before turning off the over head light and crawling over Harry to get to his side of the bed.

“Don’t call me that in private,” Harry mumbled petulantly. Louis smiled to himself and burrowed down into his pillow, pulling Harry close.

“All right, love,” he acquiesced and put an arm around Harry’s hip, when he snuggled into him more, pushing his head underneath Louis’.

“Sweet dreams,” Harry mumbled, or at least that’s what Louis thought he’d said.

“See you tomorrow,” he whispered back and let his eyes drift shut, enjoying the warmth that Harry emitted and letting the happy feeling that still cursed through his blood settle in his veins. Life was pretty fucking perfect right now.

**The End**


End file.
